After seclusion, Li Chen did not rush to cultivate further.
That alone was unusual.
Most cultivators, upon reaching Peak Qi Condensation, would immediately prepare for Foundation Building—eager, impatient, drunk on progress.
Li Chen did the opposite.
He needed something far more urgent.
A way to fight… without revealing myself.
That thought followed him as he walked through the inner paths of the Azure Leaf Sect, Xu Ming a step behind, sword wrapped in cloth and carried respectfully across his back.
Their destination loomed ahead—
The Hall of Ten Thousand Techniques.
It was one of the sect's oldest structures, a massive stone hall carved directly into the mountain. Countless jade slips were embedded into its walls, each containing a cultivation or combat technique passed down through generations.
For ordinary disciples, access was limited.
For core disciples—
The doors opened.
As Li Chen stepped inside, a heavy pressure descended, not hostile, but evaluative. The hall's formation scanned intent, temperament, and compatibility.
Xu Ming felt his breath hitch.
Li Chen felt… nothing.
The hall recognized him instantly—and wisely chose not to probe too deeply.
Rows upon rows of jade slips glowed faintly, categorized by realm, weapon, and intent.
Xu Ming's eyes shone.
"So many techniques…"
Li Chen nodded slightly.
"And almost all of them are wrong for me."
Xu Ming blinked. "Wrong?"
"Too loud," Li Chen said. "Too flashy. Too honest."
Sword techniques dominated the hall—fast, sharp, domineering. Techniques that announced their user's presence with brilliance and killing intent.
Li Chen walked past them without pause.
He needed something that fit three conditions:
Low-level appearance
High adaptability
Room for concealment
Eventually, he stopped before an unremarkable corner of the hall.
The jade slips here were dusty. Unpopular.
Xu Ming leaned closer and read the names.
"Shadow Step?"
"Silent Breath Circulation?"
"Falling Leaf Sword Art?"
Xu Ming hesitated. "These are… auxiliary techniques."
Li Chen nodded.
"Exactly."
He picked up Shadow Step, a movement technique meant for evasion rather than pursuit.
"Speed draws attention," Li Chen said. "Evasion saves lives."
Next, Silent Breath Circulation—a technique that masked spiritual fluctuations.
"Survival first."
Finally, he reached for Falling Leaf Sword Art.
Xu Ming frowned. "Master, this technique is famous for being weak. No killing intent. No power."
Li Chen examined the jade slip calmly.
A sword that fell like a leaf.
No resistance.
No struggle.
"It doesn't fight the wind," Li Chen said softly. "It moves with it."
He closed his eyes.
The principles aligned frighteningly well with the Divine Art of Silent Severance.
Minimal movement.
Maximum certainty.
No excess.
"This will do," Li Chen said.
Xu Ming hesitated. "Isn't it too… ordinary?"
Li Chen smiled faintly.
"Ordinary things survive the longest."
As he registered the techniques, a nearby elder glanced over, curiosity flickering briefly before fading.
To the sect—
Li Chen had chosen poorly.
Weak techniques.
A waste of privilege.
Li Chen didn't mind.
As he left the hall, jade slips secured, Xu Ming followed quietly.
"Master," Xu Ming said after a moment, "are you really going to fight using these?"
Li Chen looked ahead.
"I'm not going to fight," he said. "I'm going to avoid dying."
Xu Ming laughed softly.
Behind them, the Hall of Ten Thousand Techniques fell silent again.
Unaware that among its most overlooked techniques—
A path had just been chosen.
A path that, when walked by the wrong person, would turn ordinary into inevitable.